


Take It Like a Man

by sabinelagrande



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-05
Updated: 2011-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-25 17:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Sheppard, occasional cocksucker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take It Like a Man

John's only a major, still low ranking enough that, even though he's commanding a base, he's still required to do morale duty. He could probably get out of it, find some emergency excuse, but that would just make him look like an asshole in front of his men, which he can't afford to do right now. It's not even that big a deal, and John's had much worse assignments than Rodney, who doesn't need it much and showers as regularly as any self-respecting scientist can be expected to. Rodney doesn't even seem to treat him any differently because of it; John gets the same caustic comments and utter disdain as everyone else, which cover the obvious fact that Rodney is a marshmallow who'd do anything for any of them.

So John sucks it up, so to speak. It's nothing, nothing that he wouldn't ask anyone else to do. It's totally not a big deal for John.

Except, of course, that it is.

They're sitting in Rodney's room; sometimes Rodney calls him over for it, but this isn't even that. They've been sitting here since dinner arguing about _Blade Runner_ while Rodney works on something that looks important.

Rodney turns his chair around suddenly, looking at John, and John knows what's coming. Rodney tries to act cavalier about it, but he's tense, just like he always is. "Get over here and do your job," he says, and his voice is strained with excitement.

John's mouth waters automatically; he swallows it down and sinks to the floor, shuffling forward. Rodney spreads his legs to let him in, but he doesn't do anything else, leaving John to deal with his clothing.

Rodney's cock is big, big enough that John's only just starting to get the hang of it. Rodney hasn't tried to fuck him yet, only wants his mouth, and John doesn't know if he wants it, if he could even take it. He'll do it, if that's what's required of him; he'll walk around sore for days if that's what it takes.

They used to talk about things like that, in training, couched in discussions of honor and pride, long lectures of dubious historical accuracy that all boiled down to "Don't embarrass us by not taking it like a man." They used to bullshit about it in the barracks, later, about how it's totally not gay as long as you hate it, about how it's such a fucking hassle but tolerable, on the level of running in the rain at 0500 or slogging through mud on an obstacle course.

John's pretty sure he missed a step in there somewhere; there's some critical piece missing in him- not that that's new coming from him or anything.

Because when Rodney slides his cock all the way into John's mouth and moans, "That's right, fucktoy, take it," John doesn't hate it at all.

This isn't the first time he's ever been called a useless slut or a cheap whore for taking it; he served a particularly vicious geologist at McMurdo who all but made a game out of it, seeing if he could push John enough to- to do what, John wasn't sure, maybe just haul off and slug him, bite his dick off or something.

But that wasn't this, nothing like Rodney's words as they roll off his tongue, thick and rich and cutting and so very dangerous.

"You're such a good cocksucker," Rodney says, leaning back in his chair; his tone is even tighter, wound up like he's barely keeping himself from coming. "You were just made to suck my cock, do you know that?"

John moves faster; his pants are already too tight, and the faster he gets Rodney off the faster he can make it back to his room and get himself off, his hand flying on his dick.

It's not much of a surprise that Rodney catches him at it. "Slower," he says, putting his hand on the back of John's head to guide him slowly up and down. John tries so hard not to whine around his dick; Rodney must know exactly what he's doing.

"I wonder what they'd let me do to you," Rodney says, and John knows it's going to be one of those, the ones he loves and hates, the ones where Rodney wants to talk all the way through it, pile up a fantasy in front of him- loves it, because it's never better for John than then, never gives him as much to work with when he's alone; hates it, because as soon as Rodney comes, it's gone, just like that, whether John wants it to actually happen or not.

"I could make up an excuse," Rodney is saying, still moving John's head, his cock moving slickly in and out. "Find some reason I couldn't go offworld, and you know I could raise hell until I could get them to leave you all to me."

He curls his fingers through the soft hair at the nape of John's neck, toying with it. "I wonder how long it'd take before they made me let you go. They're fine giving you up for an hour, two hours," Rodney says, casually. "Would they come looking for you after a day? That wouldn't be enough time for everything I want to do to you, Sheppard, but I could strike a lot of things off the list."

He's moving harder now, deep enough that John knows he'll be hoarse, and his words are coming faster. "I'd have to handcuff you to my desk, because I wouldn't let you off your knees," he says. "And I'd leave you there, just for me- I'd have to bar the fucking door if anybody knew how good you were," Rodney tugs on his hair, "because I _don't_ share."

John can see it in his head, and it's all he can do to keep from drooling at the image. "And you couldn't do anything but wait there for me, and all you'd be able to think about was how fast you could get my cock back into your mouth." Rodney laughs. "I don't know how long I could even stand it, not when I could come in and feed you my cock any time I wanted, but you'd be so wound up that every second would feel like forever."

Rodney's hand is heavy on his head now, forcing his cock in hard and deep; John's lips are stretched and swollen, and he's already thinking about tomorrow, about how they'll still be sore, about he won't be able to stop thinking about what Rodney's done to him.

"Look up at me," Rodney says, and John can barely do it; the angle is funny and it sort of hurts his eyes. It's totally worth it for being able to see how Rodney looks down at him, powerful and shocked at the same time, like he can't believe he's getting away with it. "God, you're so gorgeous."

Rodney starts making the strangled noises that mean he's close, so close, and it only makes John suck harder; he wants the taste of Rodney's come in his mouth, bitter and harsh and exactly what he needs.

"Oh god, yeah," Rodney groans, gripping the back of his head. "Take it for me," he says, and suddenly John's mouth is full, he's swallowing it down, he feels so satisfied.

Rodney drapes himself over his chair, luxuriating in it, licking his lips unconsciously, and it's too much for John. "I should get out of here," he says quickly, starting to get up.

"I know what you're going to do," Rodney says, startling John; it takes Rodney a while to recover, and usually all he manages to do is vaguely wave at John as he leaves. Rodney is looking at him like John doesn't think he's ever been looked at before, hungry and dark. "You don't have to leave." Rodney snorts. "Unless jerking off thinking about sucking me is just so much less gay if you don't let me watch."

It's a challenge, it totally is, and a distant part of him is pissed off at the slight to his manhood. John's the one just doing his job, _Rodney's_ the one who started it, if anybody's acting gay it's Rodney, definitely not John.

But the rest of him is so turned on and addled that he just says, "There's no way this could get any gayer."

Rodney's lips curl into a smile. "Show me."

John's a little far gone even to stand up; he leans back and unzips his fly, pushing his pants and boxers around his thighs. It feels unspeakably good just to get his hand around his dick; there's no slowing down, no drawing it out, nothing to be done about how badly he needs it.

"I'm going to make you beg me for it," Rodney promises, pushing John's knees farther apart with his foot. "You won't ever be able to get enough."

John's already there right now, already needs it so much that he can't breathe. "Rodney," he grits out, just once, and then he moans loudly, his cock pulsing in his fist, his come running down the back of his hand.

He slumps against the leg of the desk, completely fucked out; he hopes Rodney doesn't need anything from him for a little bit, because he's not entirely there.

"Oh my god, I can't believe that worked," Rodney says, sounding amazed, and John looks up at him quizzically. "It's just, you know, I knew you liked it, but I thought you'd hit me in the face if I brought it up."

"I thought about it," John admits. "And if anybody finds out, I really will."

Rodney snorts. "Okay, that thing about not sharing? I was very much serious about that."

John swallows, feeling the burn in his throat. "Kinda hoped you were serious about most of it."

Rodney's eyes go wide. "I think, I mean, if we could- Elizabeth _owes_ us a day off, right?"

"If you can talk her into it, you can use my handcuffs," John says, shrugging. Rodney starts to stand up, but John grabs his leg. "Kinda gonna need you to put your dick back in your pants before you go trying to talk to Elizabeth."

"I was going to the bathroom," Rodney huffs. " _Then_ I was going to talk to Elizabeth."

John smiles, letting his eyelids fall shut, and rests his head against the desk. "Cool."


End file.
